


Just A Piece Of Love

by dattumblrgal



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Drabbles, M/M, Tumblr Prompts, ill add a tag for each one and ill keep adding them as i update with more
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-07-06 01:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15875466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dattumblrgal/pseuds/dattumblrgal
Summary: A collection of drabbles written for Tumblr prompts, originally posted @pinkzayn





	1. Chapter 1

**_things you said when you were on top of the world_ **

“oh, fuck. i think i’m dying.”

harry hides his panting with bravado, dismissing zayn’s winging for now to get his breathing back to normal. he won’t show even a sliver of exhaustion. his thighs might be burning and his heart is pounding so fast like it’s trying to get out and roll down the mountain back to the flat land, but harry  _has_ to act like everything’s fine because this was his idea and if he admits it wasn’t the best way to spend their anniversary, zayn will start sulking and the rest of their weekend in wales will be even more shit than it’s already is.

“stop acting like a little baby. you’re not dying,” harry scoffs when his breathing is mostly back to normal.

zayn glares at him from the little patch of grass where he’s lying down, starfished with his chest heaving. “we’re like… on the top of the fucking world and i’m gonna die here. my mum’s gonna kill you when she finds out you took me here.”

“this is cadair idris, not mount everest, love. people live in higher altitudes than this,” harry remarks as he sits down next to zayn.

“when you suggested we spend our anniversary in wales, i was thinking more like seeing a castle or two and fucking in our airbnb all weekend. not you attempting to murder me by hiking.”

“baby,” harry drawls as he lies down, leaning on his elbow so he’s looking down at zayn. he’s so fucking beautiful, harry still can’t believe they’re together sometimes. he had the worst crush on zayn, a very badly concealed one but harry never even dared to hope zayn would notice him. zayn always reminded him of ancient statues, with his sharp jawline and mildly bored look in his eyes. so harry watched him from a distance, in the two classes they shared and anytime he noticed him around campus or the bars around their uni. just before their freshman year ended, during the last big party before exams season, harry felt like icarus flying too close to the sun when he found himself talking to zayn, aided by liquid courage. it turns out zayn wasn’t an ancient statue, just a very attractive boy that was sometimes too quiet and a contagious laughter that lit up his eyes with happiness, burning away that faraway look harry once admired.

it didn’t take them to long to kiss like they’ve known each other for years and to also bring in the “boyfriend” label. they fell in love, hard and fast but it felt like coming home. It’s been a year since then and while harry loves being cheesy, he’s still waiting for the right moment to say “i feel like this will last forever.”. because he knows it will. since it’s forever, he still has time.

“was yesterday so bad?” harry asks, grinning like the minx he is.

zayn rolls his eyes. “i’m convinced that if it hadn’t rained, you would’ve forced me to climb another mountain. you’re lucky i love you so much because if it were anyone else, i would’ve told them to fuck off and stayed in bed all day.”

“aw, don’t be so grumpy,” harry pouts exaggaratedly. “but maybe this will give you some motivation to finally stop smoking. then we can start hiking all the hills and mountains in the country.”

“you’re insane, haz,” zayn laughs as he sits up. he’s silent for a while as harry stares at his back, admittedly too lazy and tired to sit up himself.

“i hate to say this, but the view is kinda pretty up here,” zayn says. harry finally sits up, laughing before he wraps his arms around zayn’s shoulders and starts kissing his face. he’s a bit sweaty but it doesn’t stop harry from attacking him with affection until they’re both breathless with laughter.

“i won’t say ‘i told you so’ because i love you and it’s our anniversary. so appreciate that exquisite that gift,” harry mumbles between kisses. zayn turns his head then and finally kisses harry on the mouth, bringing his hand up and clutching harry’s cheek. they kiss for a few minutes, this lazy languid movement that feels like heaven. when they pull away, they stay close, leaning their foreheads against each other.

“i love you so much,” zayn whispers. they’re so close they don’t need loudness. “even if you drag me out of bed to hike instead of having amazing sex, even if we fight about stupid shit sometimes, i wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.”

“i love you too,” harry says, kissing zayn gently. it’s short, sweet, tender. it’s everything love should be.

it’s been just a year but harry wants so much more. the idea of it might be scary, knowing you want to spend the rest of your life with someone at just twenty but when it feels right, you hold on. you don’t let something so fucking good slip through your fingers. he knows there’s more for them. making love in their airbnb later tonight. moving in together in september. graduating university. harry wants to believe there’s more. amazing adventures together, planes taking them all over the globe. maybe matching rings on their left hands one day.

right now, they’re on top of the fucking world and they’re in love. at the end of the day, it’s all that matters. however long it lasts, every single day is worth it.


	2. Chapter 2

**_things you said at the kitchen table_ **

 

the evening wasn’t anything special. just mundane, ordinary. alice was a bit fussy, not wanting to eat her peas and making a mess of her high chair. charlie talked their ears off about his math class from that morning and how he can now multiply numbers so quickly. harry and zayn smiled at them, nodded at all the right words and coaxed alice into eating half of her peas. then the kids went to play in the living for a bit before their bedtime while harry and zayn tidied up the kitchen.

  
it hasn’t been ideal between the two of them lately. well, it’s a bit if a loose term really. could lately stand for three years?

  
they dont fight in front of the kids. that has always been the number one rule. alice and charlie need to believe their dads are happy, strong and neither of them will ever leave. they cant see the two people they love the most, the two people they rely on fight like stupid kids and be vicious with each other.

  
this time it slips past them like a silenced bullet in the dark. one moment theyre washing the dishes and the other theyre sitting at the kitchen table and throwing words at each other with so much hate it feels like a dream. 

  
it’s always the fights about the stupid shit. “you didn’t change the litter in the cat’s litter box.” “you promised you’d help charlie with his homework and yet you fucking didn’t.” “you’re tired of me? well, you liked me once enough to marry me and have children with me so you just have to fucking bear it now.” sometimes they wonder how they got there. 

  
that evening, it’s a fight about painting alice’s room yellow instead of the pink she has there. somehow, they end up questioning their entire relationship.

  
“i really never though we’d do it but i think divorce might be our only option at this point.” those were the words zayn said at their kitchen table, in their kitchen with the marble countertops they love so much and their chidlren’s drawings on the fridge. the same kitchen table they have family dinners at. the same place where charlie said “dada” for the first time. the same table that they’ve fucked on countless of times before they had kids. now it carries the reminder of their downfall.

  
alice starts crying before harry has the chance to respond. harry’s aghast, staring at the man he’s loved for almost fifteen years in complete and utter shock. he’s lost for words, dazed with the realization that his relationship might be in a worse shape that he had thought. upon seeing harry’s frozen expression, zayn gets up, mumbling “i’ll get her and put her down to sleep.” before leaving the room.

  
harry leans his elbows on the table, resting his face in his hands. tears come shortly after and he doesn’t attempt to stop them or pull himself together. his husband, his soulmate, the love of his life just suggested divorce. fuck, harry knew it has been bad but never this fucking dismal. they have two children for christ’s sake. charlie is just eight and alice three, she’s still a baby. they need both of their parents. he can’t have his children growing up in an incomplete family.

  
eleven years ago, when they got married, harry thought it was a done deal - a happy marriage until they’re both old and wrinkly and masters at spoiling their grandchildren. they’ve managed to raise two children, stay faithful and yet here they are? where did they fuck up? where did it all go wrong? harry’s fingers are restless in his hair as he tries to just find that one fucking moment when all that love and happiness just unraveled and dissipated into this air. there’s still the option that it happened slowly, over the time. maybe they just fell out of love, the quick speed of it pushed by stress and responsibilities. could that be it? could harry be falling asleep every night next to a person who doesn’t love him anymore and tolerates him just for the sake of their kids?

 

“daddy?”

  
harry quickly whips his head at charlie’s voice, sniffling and trying to wipe his tears away before charlie sees them. “hi baby. you wanna go to bed? is it your bedtime yet?”  
charlie ignores the questions. “were you and dad fighting?” 

  
harry’s heart falls in his chest. “no, of course not. we were just talking about painting your sister’s room.” charlie can’t know how bad it is. he can never feel his parents’ relationship crashing and burning.

  
“why are you crying then?” charlie asks.

  
harry can’t help but let a sad smile take over his face. his sweet boy, always so smart and so attentive. “come here, sweetheart.”

  
charlie complies and harry pulls him up into his lap. he’s getting a little big for this but harry will ignore his babies growing up as long as he can. he smells charlie’s hair, dropping a kiss on the crown of his head. it’s like it was yesterday when he was just a baby and had that typical baby smell, his head just with a few feathery hair and not the curls he has now.

  
“sometimes adults don’t get along, baby,” harry starts, hugging charlie close to him. “your dad and i, we’ve been together for a very long time. and we’ve been having a rough time lately. you’ll understand it when you’re older. but always remember, that we love you very very much and we’re always there for you, alright?”

  
“i love you too daddy,” charlie says in a small voice. “but dad said something about a divorce? i’m not sure what it is but my friend katie said her daddy left after that thing.”

  
harry’s eyes dampen with a fresh set of tears. he wants go slap himself and slap zayn too for creating this situation where their eight year old boy has to ask about a fucking divorce. “we’ve not going anywhere,” harry says resolutely, his throat tight. “we’ll always be here with you, and neither me nor your dad are leaving you and alice. don’t think about it, okay baby? we were just talking about stuff, it wasn’t serious.”

  
“okay.”

  
“okay?”

  
“i trust you, daddy,” charlie says, looking up at harry. harry’s heart falls down to his stomach.

  
“alright then, bedtime for charlie,” harry chirps as he stands up with charlie, attempting to carry his on his hip, which he does successfully but his back will give him some nasty payback in the morning. charlie groans all the way to his room before he leaves with an eyeroll to brush his teeth and get ready for bed *alone* because apparently he’s an adult now and doesn’t need harry at all.

  
the master bedroom is empty when he gets in. zayn’s still with alice, probably trying to tire her with games so she falls asleep. harry doesn’t have the energy to shower and do his whole nightly skincare routine just yet so he sits down on their bed and switches through apps on his phone, mindlessly scrolling through instagram before he decides to post a picture of alice with their cat he took in morning.

  
zayn comes in about fifteen minutes after harry, not saying a single word as he plops down on his side of the bed, ignoring Harry’s burning stare.

  
“are you ignoring me?” harry asks as zayn unlocks his own phone.

  
“no, why would i be ignoring you?” zayn replies without looking at harry.

  
harry huffs out a breath and shakes his head. “charlie just asked me about divorce.”

  
this finally earns harry zayn’s attention. “what? when?”

  
“in the kitchen after you left to get alice.” 

  
zayn sighs, massaging his closed eyelids with the tips of his fingers. “what did you tell him?”

  
“that we’re not leaving. neither of us.”

  
zayn just hums.

  
“we’re not getting a fucking divorce. you will have to kill me before that happens.” harry barks out, anger slowly but steadily rising. “i don’t care if you’re fucking someone behind my back, i don’t give a fuck if you don’t love me anymore. we have two children that need us and i will not let them grow up in an incomplete family. that’s what my dad did and i won’t let you fuck them up like that.”

  
zayn finally opens his eyes. “are you happy?”

  
harry stays silent.

  
“or let me rephrase the question, have you been happy since alice was born?”

  
“are you trying to say you regret having her? because if you do i’m gonna fucking punch you right now.”

  
“no,” zayn says calmly and sits up. “i’m trying to say that we let our kids take over our relationship. and before you say it, yes i know alice was born premature and needed a lot of care. but you weren’t the only one scared shittless and i think you forgot that. we were supposed to be there for each other, more than ever before and you just shut me out and then never opened the door again.”

  
“well, i’m fucking sorry that i cared more about the well-being of our child than the well-being of your dick!”

  
zayn scoffs, shaking his head softly. “it’s not about that. you haven’t been listening to me. these whole three years, you weren’t listening. for the first six months of alice’s life, every single one of our conversations was about her or charlie. then you started blaming me for staying at work too long and going on business trips like it was my fucking fault you went on paternity leave and were home with the kids. and ever since then, we just started fucking ripping into each other about every single little thing and i’m tired. i’m tired of fighting, harry. this isn’t who we are and our kids don’t deserve to have parents who can barely stand each other. and why? because of years of pointless fighting. that’s why i asked if you were happy. because i’m not. i miss you being my husband and not just a roommate who i share children with.”

  
harry bites the inside of his cheek, determined not to cry. it’s all true. he’d be lying if he claimed what zayn has just said wasn’t the plain and simple truth.

  
“why did it have to take our son asking about divorce for you to say all this?” harry asks after a moment of strained silence.

  
“i don’t know,” zayn says quietly. “i guess i was scared of looking selfish, like i was putting our relationship on a higher spot on the priority list than our children. but we aren’t happy just being ourselves. all of our happiness is tied to alice and charlie, and it has been putting a strain on our family. i know i brought up the divorce and i’m really fucking sorry for that but sometimes all this… just drives me crazy.”

  
“we should’ve talked about this sooner,” harry says sadly.

  
“we should’ve,” zayn agrees.

  
they sit on their bed surrounded by silence for a while, not looking at each other, not touching each other.

  
“you know that i wanted another baby before alice was born?” harry says suddenly. he doesn’t turn his head but he can feel zayn’s gaze on him. “but then everything went to shit. and i really hate to say this out loud, but i feel like we wasted… or not properly enjoyed alice’s fist years and her big milestones just because we were mad at each other for stupid shit.”

  
“i’m sorry.”

  
“i’m sorry too. we’re both at fault here. but even if we can never get back to where we were, i just can’t let the kids go through our divorce, okay?” harry finally looks at zayn to see him nodding slowly. “we’ll try to be happy. we’ll try to be in love. but… if it doesn’t work out, we need to be at least friends and love our children the best we can. promise me that.”

  
zayn takes a deep breath, his eyes clear and honest. “i promise.”

  
fifteen years ago, when they had just met and were enchanted by the new romance and growing love, harry had clear visions of their future. a house in the suburbs with three kids running around, some pets in the garden, the two of then older but still as in love as they were in their early twenties. he never imagined fighting off divorce with the love of his life and their relationship hanging on by a thread and that thread being their children.

  
this is their final warning. their last chance at trying to be the couple they were a few years ago. they need to dig up that love, that happiness they used to bring each other with simple kisses or a designated monthly date night when charlie was with one of their families or friends. they need to get there again, with one more child and more years because the chance at having the future harry imagined once isn’t fully lost. there’s still faith.


	3. Chapter 3

_**i still remember the way you taste** _

 

__

“I still remember the way you taste.”

      Arguably, it isn’t the best thing to say as you kiss someone for the first time in months. But it’s true and it was the most prominent thought in Harry’s mind ever since he saw the familiar telltale look in Zayn’s eyes, the one where they both knew they would end up pressed together in a dark corner with their lips red and swollen from kissing.

      They ended up in a bathroom, kissing and grinding against each other instead of watching the movie they’re the main characters in. The inevitability of this was almost tangible. Harry saw Zayn on the red carpet, wearing a light pink suit and funnily enough, dinosaur socks and he was done for. All of the pep talks he got from friends, all the time he spent crying to his mom on the phone about his broken heart, all of it was thrown right out the window the second Harry saw Zayn again. When Harry didn’t see a certain tall leggy blonde anywhere near Zayn, he only needed to catch Zayn’s eye for more than two seconds and he had his confirmation that they will be reliving some parts of their affair tonight.

      “My friend was smoking Marlboros when we were hanging out,” Harry continues talking between kisses. “And I wasn’t sure if I wanted to throw up or start crying because they were the same ones you smoke. And the smell just reminded me of how you always used to smoke in bed after we fucked. We shared sometimes and I’d have the taste of you on my tongue for hours. What are you doing to me?”

      Zayn stills, his lips millimeters away from the skin on Harry’s neck. “What are you doing to me? I broke up with my girlfriend because I couldn’t fucking stop thinking about you. We were together for three years and I threw all of that away because I was driving myself crazy with the idea that I’m going to see you again.”

      The words make Harry shiver. Zayn’s breath on his skin, the heat of their bodies so close to each other, it’s all better than the strongest drug there is. Nothing could bring a high like this does. Hearing Zayn says he left his beautiful, his fucking perfect girlfriend for him, has Harry almost coming in his dress pants.

      Harry’s been in the movie industry for some years now and from what he’s seen, the cliché love story about two main characters who fall in love on screen, falling in love in real life too, was nothing more than a good marketing plot for said movie. He has never fallen in love with his on-screen love interests and didn’t think he ever would. There was some sex out of convenience, sure, but that’s about it. That was until he met Zayn.

      They had seen each other in passing before, at other movie premieres or industry parties but the first time they spoke was at their chemistry screen test. That was also their first kiss. Not with feeling and curious hands, but scripted and with a camera on them.

      Harry was surprised, to say the least, when he found out Zayn Malik was playing his love interested in what had been described by producers as ‘the first gay rom-com’. The man, whose heterosexuality, was according to tabloids and various women he had slept with, as impenetrable as the Hoover Dam. Harry was surely flooded when Zayn, on their second day of filming, casually said “Yeah, I’m bi. I just don’t really talk about it and since I got into acting, I haven’t had a serious boyfriend so it didn’t really come up.”.

      The sex started not even two weeks into filming. After countless kisses in front of a camera and a sex scene too, the lust between them couldn’t have been ignored. It all fit like a perfect fucked up puzzle. Harry’s never against casual sex and Zayn and his girlfriend were taking a break. It was supposed to be fun, a few weeks of fucking that they would laugh about after it was over. But things like this don’t usually go according to plan, do they?

      Fucking shifted into late nights in hotel rooms spent talking, revealing parts of each other they tend to keep hidden. Feelings seeped into something that was supposed to be shallow and insignificant. Touches weren’t just about lust and desire anymore, they were tender and curious as they tried to appreciate their bodies and not just make each other come as quick as they could. Hushed laughter, misty skin, empty promises slipping off their tongues on their own volition. All of it had Harry fooled that their affection wouldn’t end when the director yelled “Cut!” for the last time.

      Harry would never admit it to anyone other than his mom and maybe sister, but he spent a week in bed trying to convince himself he doesn’t really love Zayn and that the heartbreak he feels is fictitious. It hurt, hearing Zayn says that he and his girlfriend were giving their relationship another shot. Harry’s pathetic “But what about us?” haunted his dreams for weeks.

      He dreaded the premiere and the press circuit following it. Spending all that time around Zayn again, knowing that after the lights are off and the interviewers are gone, they’re not going to talk, they’re not going to kiss and they’re certainly not going to make love. But miraculously, he was proved wrong.

      “Why didn’t you call me?” Harry whispers, no need for it other than it feels clandestine, as if the tiles were listening and would shout out their conversation to everyone in the building.

       Zayn lifts his head up from Harry’s neck, his eyes finding Harry’s. He almost look sad. The usual glimmer in his eyes gone, the corners of his mouth flaccid, like he wasn’t smiling on the red carpet just minutes ago. Harry wonders if Zayn ever cried for him.

“I was scared that you hated me,” Zayn says quietly, his hand coming up to rest on Harry’s cheek. Harry’s breath hitches and his own hand comes up to cover Zayn’s, the feeling of their skin together so good he nearly cries. “And I knew we’d see each other at the premiere either way. I didn’t want to… do it all over the phone because you could just hang up and then you’d avoid me at premiere. I don’t know, I wanted to talk to you face to face.”

      “I missed you so much,” Harry says into Zayn’s lips after kissing him. He can’t help himself, not after weeks of not touching each other, of not even breathing the same air or talking on the phone.

      “I love you too,” Zayn says suddenly. “I didn’t say it back when we finished filming and I must’ve broken your heart. I felt the same, I still do. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I was stupid. I thought that… if I just went back to my old relationship everything would be okay. That I’d forget about you. But I didn’t. I love you and I’m not scared, I’m excited because you’re fucking brilliant and there’s so much more in store for us.”

       Harry rushes to find Zayn’s lips with his again. He tries to put his own “I love you.” into the kiss, the hope for the future. And maybe they won’t last. Maybe they’ll be together for six month, call it quits and never see each other again. Maybe they’ll get married and be in love till they’re eighty. But Harry doesn’t care about the time they’re going to have together. This love is worth it, even for a short while. They’re here right now, in love and wrapped up in each other. That’s what matters the most.


	4. Chapter 4

**things you said that i wasn't meant to hear**

 

love is always tricky. it never works out the way you want it to. even when it’s good, even when it’s near damn perfect, love does whatever it wants. you don’t choose the people you fall in love with. they don’t choose whether they fall in love with you too or not.

your heart breaks with love but it also heals with it. love can be a salve that mends together all your shattered pieces back together. other times, love just keeps you happy and warm.

that’s how harry feels around zayn - warm, happy, content. it’s just right, like coming home after getting out of a storm in fall and wrapping yourself in a cozy blanket with a cup of your favourite tea. loving someone like that makes everything brighter. being together is suddenly a piece of summer sunshine in the middle of december. you never want to leave that place, you just want to keep basking in its glow.

harry’s known zayn for years and years. they got matched up as roommates in uni in their first year. what seemed like a disaster at the first sight, an introvert and extrovert who both don’t fit the stereotypes of their alignments, turned out to be a friendship for a lifetime. they were inseparable, creating mild havoc all around campus, being the life of the party together, having illicit threesomes that to this day make harry blush sometimes. behind closed doors when it was just the two of them, a wave of calmness washed over them and they studied together, binged tv shows and movies, talked many nights away without realizing. it was a match made in heaven.

the love didn’t come until their uni days were long gone. maybe it had, only harry was oblivious and never noticed it. maybe the minutes he spent staring at zayn’s face in the solitude of their room meant nothing. maybe the kisses that the girls asked for meant something. maybe harry wanted it to be just the two of them all along.

harry loved zayn. plain and simple. he loved the way he talked, with his accent and hand gestures that always distracted harry with the daydreams of zayn’s long fingers taking him apart. he loved zayn’s eyes, how they were always honest and the colour of them that harry has never seen anywhere else in the whole world. he loved everything about zayn, from the little details like that way he wrapped his arm around harry when they were watching movies to the big and important things, like how zayn’s actually helping save the fucked up world by being a fearless badass in court and trying to get human rights to be as equal as they claim to be.

harry loves him with his whole heart and probably has ever since he made zayn laugh for the first time when they were still teenagers.

the thing is, zayn doesn’t know. and that’s where harry fucks up.

he should’ve kept his mouth shut. why whine about something you know for a fact isn’t going to change? yet harry does exactly that.

harry was three glasses of wine in when he decided to call gemma and complain about his miserable case of unrequired love. he should’ve been inside, enjoying the birthday party of an amazing friend of his but there he was, sitting outside on a patio chair in october because he was a loser. as it’s usual for london, it was starting to drizzle so harry thought his little meltdown was safe and sound, hidden from strange ears, especially zayn’s ears since he was inside the house too.

“gem, you need to stop telling me to do something when you know i can’t do that,” harry huffs after a few minutes of conversation. it’s always the same when he talks about it. “you need to tell him.” “i can’t.” “why?” “because i love him and i can’t hurt him.”. the script to this charade barely ever changes.

“no, you listen to me,” harry says. “i’m in love with him. i love zayn with my whole fucking heart so i can’t do something like this to him. i’d rather have him love me as a friend than hate me. i can’t lose him. it’d break me.”

the silence that falls upon the conversation is dreadfully interrupted by harry’s name being said. honestly, harry’s never hated his name until that very moment.

“harry…”

and harry can’t turn around and face the man he loves, who’s probably looking at him with hurt in his beautiful eyes, ready to kick harry out of his life and never talk to him again. of fucking course, out of the twenty people in the house, zayn had to be the one to come outside right now and hear this. and isn’t that just wonderful?

“harry can you please look at me and say something?”

the already locked phone in harry’s hand seems like the best target for his eyes, so harry keeps his gaze there but he does turn around in his seat. he’d probably fall if he got up, with the way his hands are shaking, his knees are probably no better than jello.

“why did you say those things?” zayn asks. his voice is level, not upset, not laced with hatred. harry would consider it a small victory if zayn’s wasn’t a lawyer who can lie his way out of anything.

“i don’t know what to tell you,” harry answers truthfully, his eyes still avoiding zayn.

“did you mean it?”

“yes.”

the silence is broken by the sound of small rain drops hitting the glass patio table. words don’t interrupt the strained sounds for a long moment.

“how long?” zayn asks simply.

harry finally finds the courage to look at zayn, only to miss zayn’s eyes. he’s standing a few feet away, his arms crossed and his head bent down. the pain that invades harry’s heart starkly reminds him of their petty arguments in uni. this time it isn’t about dirty laundry on the floor or bringing back someone without telling the other. this time it’s crucial.

“years,” harry says after finding his voice. there’s no point in lying. “i realized it… maybe two or three years ago? but i think it started sooner. in uni, to be exact.”

“fuck,” zayn says, lifting his head up and looking at the grey sky.

“are you mad at me?”

zayn looks down, seeing harry’s face for the first time since he found out the truth about harry’s feelings. “i can’t be mad at you, harry.”

harry’s suddenly aware of his breathing, the rhythmic falling of his chest getting significantly slower. “i’m sorry, zayn. i didn’t mean to and i swear i never tried to take advantage of you or… do anything inappropriate. i promise you i’d never do something like that.”

“i know, harry,” zayn sighs, turning his head towards the backyard. “i just- nevermind, actually.”

“what?” harry asks anxiously.

zayn chuckles sadly, looking back at harry with a small shake of his head. “i’m getting married in three months.”

harry’s blood stills in his veins. of course zayn wouldn’t want him there anymore. “i don’t have to come,” harry says quickly, standing up and walking closer to zayn. he’s almost frantic with how he’s trying to make sure nothing else gets fucked up since their friendship is all but intact. “you can have someone else be you best man, i don’t mind. i imagine you don’t want me standing there while you marry the love of your life with the newfound knowledge of my… improper feelings for you.”

“harry,” zayn says with a sigh, the beginning of a sad smile lining his lips. “lacy isn’t the love of my life. she’s not the one ive wanted ever since i was nineteen. but i can’t change that now. it breaks my heart a bit, but i truly can’t.”

harry blinks in confusion, trying to remember who zayn dated in their second year of uni. “you’re in love with… greta? you two were together for like two months, i don’t get it. why haven’t you told me?”

zayn laughs, a hint of despair lining his features, and the lines between harry’s eyebrows only deepen because he’s at lost here. who did even zayn date when they were nineteen if it’s not greta? did he date evan? harry had always been under the impression they just fucked a few times. maybe zayn wasn’t comfortable with having a boyfriend back then and didn’t want to tell harry too? but that doesn’t seem to add up since they did know absolutely everything about each other and trusted each other with even the most intimate and vulnerable things.

“how could you be so blind, haz?”

“me?” harry squawks.

zayn smiles, a glint of sadness reflecting off of his eyes. “yes, you. how didn’t you see what a fucking fool i was for you? still am. it’s been like… ten years and you never once noticed.”

harry’s sigh turns into something like a sob, taking all the oxygen in his lungs with it. “i- i’ve no idea what you’re trying to tell me right now.”

“i’ve been in love with you since uni,” zayn says with serene honesty, effectively making harry’s head spin. “i’ve no clue how you never noticed it because i was helpless. why did you think i agreed to hook up with girls together? and then fuck even when they weren’t there? i had hoped that you felt the same way too but you were, i don’t know, scared to admit it? or you didn’t realize it? and i was so confused by you because there you were one moment kissing me in the back of a cab and then leaving to go to someone else’s place. in the mornings i’d find you in my bed, smelling of sex and a different person but you were still next to me.

“i gave up hoping you’d love me too when we graduated. clearly, i read the whole situation wrong so i put a stop to our hooking up and decided to move on. along the way i met lacy and here we are. i love her, i’m happy but it’s never been like me and you. and now, you tell me this?”

“i’m sorry,” harry says through a tight throat. he can feel the tears coming but he won’t let himself cry now.

“don’t be sorry. i’m sorry for not telling you how i felt sooner because it easily could’ve been us getting married now, not me and lacy. but we wasted ten fucking years and for what? nothing.”

harry swallows, the tears burning his eyes. “what now?”

zayn sighs, looking at the ground. “nothing. there’s nothing.”

“i can’t-“ harry starts, his breath getting caught in his throat with the incoming tears. “i don’t think i can just go on like this conversation never happened.”

zayn looks at him then, his face motionless and numb. harry swears his heart shatters a little. “it’s too late, harry.”

“no, you can’t-“

“i can,” zayn says coldly. “i can’t be that guy who leaves his fianceé just months before the wedding for his best friend. i won’t do that to her.”

the first tears hit the surface of harry’s cheeks. he bites his tongue, keeping the incoming fight from happening. he wants to say vicious words, he wants to fight for the man he’s loved for years but it’d be useless. harry is stubborn but zayn’s even more so and he’s made up his mind already.

so harry nods, looking at the ground through hus tears, seeing a kaleidoscope of autumnal colours that the dry leaves provide. the silence stretches too far and wide, and the muffled music from the inside makes it seem like a nightmare.

“i’m going inside. you coming?” zayn asks some minutes later. harry can only shake his head. he still hasn’t looked at zayn. the tears keep coming.

“okay. but don’t stay out here for too long, harry. you know you can catch a cold quicker than anything.”

harry stays mum. his shut mouth is barely keeping the wailing and sobbing in. he can’t break down in front of zayn.

“alright, so… see ya in a moment, haz.”

the moment the sliding door shuts behind zayn, harry lets go. the tears come falling in thick streams, sobs wracking through his body. the rain starts really pouring down then, mixing with harry’s tears and making them invisible. it’s like the sky was mourning with him, or mocking him perhaps.

harry sits there in the rain for way longer than he should. he’s gonna come down with a fever tomorrow morning. he turns the questions in his mind over and over again, wondering why can’t just they be happy together? how is it fair to any of them? why can lacy be happy with a man that loves harry more than her while harry’s miserable? there’s too much heartbreak for this to be the better option, the better choice to make.

he can’t let this happen. he just can’t. there must be a way to fix all this. they all deserve to be happy and this truly isn’t it. how is harry supposed to stand near the altar at zayn’s wedding and not say a thing? it’s cruel, to all three of them.

harry won’t give up. he might cry in bed for a few hours but he will get up and fix this. he’ll come up with something and finally after years and years of longing, he will be able to tell zayn he loves him every single day and kiss him not because some girl has told him to, but because he wants to- because they both want to.

he will listen to his heart and not his head for once.


End file.
